


Crawling Inside

by LostGirl



Series: Second Glances [5]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Dirty Talk, First Time, Insecure!Wesley, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-20
Updated: 2005-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-01 19:51:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6534151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostGirl/pseuds/LostGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rupert has a surprise for Wesley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crawling Inside

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Crawling Inside  
> Author: Lostgirl  
> Pairing: Giles/Wesley  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Summary: Set in the same 'verse as Second Glances, about two months after the end of that series. The summer between season 3 and season 4 BtVS.  
> Spoilers: PWP-ish.
> 
> Disclaimer: All things BtVS and AtS belong to Joss Whedon and various corporate entities. I am neither.
> 
> Big huge thanks to [](http://bethynyc.livejournal.com/profile)[**bethynyc**](http://bethynyc.livejournal.com/) and [](http://taffimai.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://taffimai.livejournal.com/)**taffimai** for the beta magics!

Wesley sighed as he entered the courtyard and crossed to the door of Rupert's flat, tired, lonely, and in serious need of Rupert's companionship.  Of course, he had been the one to insist that he should patrol with the others, even when Rupert didn't.  It wasn't that the night had gone horribly.  In fact, it had gone rather well, by the usual standards.  Still, Buffy and the others were wary of him, sometimes still mocked him as well, which left him feeling down.

This had become the pattern of the nights when Rupert wasn't with him on patrol.  He always went to Rupert's flat instead of his own, always sought out Rupert's company to remind himself that there was somewhere he was welcomed.  Wesley did wonder what the others would think if they knew about Rupert and himself, but he was content to leave the realization of those imaginings for later.  Much later.

Right then, all he wanted was to belong a little, to someone.  
  
He knocked, knowing Rupert would be expecting him, knowing the door would be unlocked, and still unable to just barge inside.  It simply . . . it didn't feel right, not yet.  A moment later, Rupert opened the door with an amused smile.

"Wesley," he said, stepping aside.

Wes ducked his head, an answering smile tilting his lips.  He was always a bit surprised when Rupert seemed pleased to see him.  No matter how often Rupert greeted him at the door with a smile and welcoming eyes, Wesley never actually expected it to happen again.

"How was patrol?" Rupert asked and Wesley looked up to find Rupert wiping his hands on a dish towel he'd pulled from his shoulder, watching Wesley in that patient, amused way of his.

Wesley snorted at Rupert's question, though he relaxed a bit now that he was through the door.  Every time he came, he was a bit tense until then, as if part of him expected Rupert to tell him to go away.  Laying aside his crossbow, Wesley took off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack.

"Rather well, considering.  There were only two vampires, Buffy took them out easily.  I was superfluous, but she and Willow were less hostile."  He shrugged, looking up as Rupert took a step closer.  He smiled, unable to duck his head to hide it with Rupert's eyes right there, Rupert's lips so close to his own.  Heart picking up its pace, he waited.  He wasn't sure why Rupert always paused before kissing him, but he hardly minded when the result was--

Rupert's lips met his and Wesley sighed, body pressing forward with a will of its own.  Wesley let his hands move up Rupert's arms, slow, only slightly hesitant that he was doing the wrong thing.

Rupert bit at his bottom lip and Wesley groaned, opening, welcoming that agile tongue into his mouth, his hands sliding to Rupert's neck without a thought.  Their tongues writhed against one another, bodies rubbing together in that delicious way that caused heat to pool in Wesley's belly, caused his cock to harden.  Rupert pulled his shirt free from his trousers and slid his hands under to dig into the skin of his lower back.  Wesley found himself pressed backward, against the door.  He moaned softly as Rupert's knee pushed between his thighs.

"God," he murmured as he pulled away from the kiss, his head tilting backwards, eyes tightly shut at the sensations rushing through his body.  His cock was straining against the fabric of his pants and the zip of his trousers, Rupert's knee pushing lightly against his balls.  The friction pulled little gasps from his parted lips.

Rupert kissed his way to Wesley's neck, soft lips rubbing over the sensitive skin of Wes' throat.  Wesley reveled in it, the open mouthed kisses against his adam's apple, the brief nip of sharp teeth just below his ear.  Rupert said his name and the warm rush of breath made him shiver.

Rupert nuzzled against him, knee still pressing, hands still rubbing.  Given the stimulations, Wesley had a hard time processing Rupert's next words.  "Ready for supper?"

"What?"  Wesley blinked.  Rupert pulled away, smiled, fingers moving to brush barely-there touches against Wesley's neck.  On anyone else Wesley would have taken that sly, amused smile as mocking, but with the heat in those green eyes, the fingertips caressing his neck, Rupert's knee sliding sinuously from between his legs, Wesley knew better.

"Supper," Rupert said, his eyes glinting mischievously as he pulled away.  "The last three times you went on patrol with the girls, you and I disposed of more biscuits than I can count.  I thought it might be nice to eat actual food this time."

"I suppose that depends on how far you expect me to walk before I sit down to eat," Wesley blushed, ducking his head, hardly believing the words had come from him.

Rupert laughed, motioning to the stools by the pass-through.  "Have a seat.  I'll just get everything together."

His reaction to Rupert embarrassed Wesley at times.  Of course, over the last few months those times had become fewer and farther between.  Now it was mostly that he was embarrassed at night, lying in bed and remembering all the small--and often not so small--touches the two of them had shared, touching himself, remembering Rupert's hands and lips.

They hadn't actually had sex yet.  Hell, Rupert had yet to actually come in his presence.  Though, of course, the one time Wesley had hadn't been by intent.  He simply hadn't been able to contain himself with the feel Rupert's body against his, the man's lips on him, hands roaming his skin.  He'd been so terribly embarrassed.  Rupert hadn't even touched his cock directly and yet he'd been so overwhelmed . . . The memory wasn't painful, though.  Rupert had made sure of that.  Wesley still remembered the way the man had looked at him.  Rupert's eyes had been amazed.  He'd been panting hard, but frozen.  Wesley had feared he'd humiliated himself, again, and then Rupert had leaned in, brushed their lips together, murmuring about how beautiful Wesley was when he came, how much Wesley's abandon had turned him on.

Wesley still suspected that, had they not been in the stacks at the time, Rupert would have done more that day.  Would have finally showed Wesley how to make him come, might even have . . . taken him.

Wesley shuddered, looking up and realizing that Rupert was watching him.  The bemused expression on the man's face made Wesley blink.  "What?"

Rupert chuckled, shaking his head.  "I asked if you wanted juice or wine."

"Wine, please," Wesley said with a smile, unable to hold it in when Rupert laughed that way, as if he knew what was going on in Wesley's head and _liked_ it.

Between the two of them, supper always led to discussion.  Wesley loved that, loved having someone with whom he could discuss the intricacies of a particular translation, or the Council's traditions, with particular emphasis on their usefulness.  Rupert would tell him stories of the time he'd spent working for the Council at the British Museum.  Now and then Rupert would even coax from him a story about the Academy, or his time in the translation department before his elevation to Active Watcher.

They discussed Buffy's progress, often coming to the conclusion that neither of them was particularly needed at the moment.  Rupert didn't seem as upset by that prospect as Wesley had thought he would be.  He'd once asked Rupert why and the man had shrugged, saying that though it was hard, he was glad that Buffy was doing so well.  And, regardless, he had other things to think about.  Wesley also remembered the smile Rupert had given him after those words and the way it had made him shiver.

Wesley helped to clear away the plates, relishing in the many little touches between them as they both worked in silence, familiar with one another, familiar with the routine.  It was a balm to his spirit to feel so at home here, to feel so included.

As Wesley refilled their wine glasses, Rupert went to the sofa, fiddling with something Wesley couldn't see.  Curious, Wesley left the wine on the counter and sneaked up behind Rupert, looking over his shoulder.  Gasping when he saw the box, he took a quick step back, his eyes flying to Rupert's when he turned toward Wesley.  It was the same box Wes had found months ago, the one that had gotten him into so much trouble.  What was Rupert doing with it?  He opened his mouth to ask, but what came out was closer to a whimper.

Rupert looked worried for a moment.  He glanced back to the box and then to Wesley.  "Come sit with me?"

Wesley opened his mouth, but nothing came out this time and so he only nodded.  The box made him nervous, reminded him of how badly he'd nearly botched things and that he'd almost lost whatever chance he had with Rupert.  He moved to the couch, carefully keeping his eyes away from the box, trying not to think about it and hoping that Rupert wasn't regretting the choice he'd given Wesley.  "What . . . uh, what is it?"

Rupert smiled at him, his finger brushing Wesley's face.  Wes leaned into the touch, reassured by it, his body losing some of the tension it had gathered over the last few moments.

"I thought," Rupert said, hesitating for a moment, "I thought we could go through it together."

Wesley's eyes widened, his breath coming a little quicker at the thought.  He remembered those pictures well, remembered the effect they'd had on him.  He just didn't understand exactly where Rupert was going with this.  "Uh, what . . . what do you mean?"

Rupert smiled, reaching out for him.  Wes moved into his arms at once, scooting until he was beside Rupert, their bodies pressed together.  Rupert's mouth pressed against his neck and then moved slowly up to his ear, his hot breath making Wesley shudder.  "I thought you and I could go through the pictures together, watch the videos together.  I remember the . . . effect they had on you, wanted to see you that way, abandoned.  Want to touch you, taste you, feel you, watch you come.  Do you want that, Wesley?"

"Yes," Wesley breathed, tilting his neck so that Rupert had better access.  "God, yes."

"Want to come for you," Rupert whispered, sending shudders through Wesley's body.  "I thought I was waiting on you, but . . . you were waiting, weren't you, Wes?"

Wesley nodded, taking in a deep breath.  "Show me," he whispered, turning to bring his mouth almost into contact with Rupert's.

"Show you?" Rupert's eyes were focused on his lips and Wesley got a thrill from that, from knowing that Rupert was effected by him, even if it probably wasn't as greatly as Wesley was effected.

"Show me how to-to make you c-come."  Wesley could feel himself blush at the words, but it hardly mattered with Rupert's lips rubbing against his own.  Rupert took Wesley's bottom lip between his teeth and sucked.  Moaning, Wesley dove forward for a proper kiss, humming happily as Rupert's tongue slipped inside, rubbing along his own.

He didn't want to stop kissing, but finally the need for air forced him to pull away.  He licked his lips, watching as Rupert's eyes followed his tongue.  "Show me," he said again, desperate to know, wanting so badly to give Rupert that kind of pleasure.

"Making me come is hardly the difficult part," Rupert said with a shaky laugh.  "Believe me, Wesley, you'll have no trouble.  In fact, I think the difficult part is going to be keeping me from coming," he said in a choked whisper, "Especially if you keep licking your lips that way."

Wesley ran his tongue along his lips again; relishing the groan it drew from Rupert.  It hit him then that Rupert wanted him, _really_ wanted him.  As much as they'd been snogging for the past two months, it still hadn't really felt that that Was the case until just now.  Rupert's voice was hoarse, his eyes dark, his hands not quite as gentle as they usually were.  Rupert _wanted_ him.  Wesley's head spun with the knowledge, making him giddy.

"God, Wesley, you have no idea what you do to me," Rupert murmured against his shoulder.  "We'll go as slowly as you need to, but . . . God, you make me hard, make me forget myself."

Wesley tried to move closer, to feel more and found himself crawling onto Rupert's lap.  He straddled Rupert's thighs, both of them groaning as their erections pressed hard together.  "Rupert, I-I don't want to go slowly.  I . . . Please.  T-take me?"

Rupert groaned, his body arching up against Wesley, hard cock grinding against hard cock.  Wesley gasped, his hands gripping tight on Rupert's shoulders.  He threw his head back, panting.

"Wesley," Rupert murmured, drawing his attention.  Wes looked at him, pushing his cheek against the hand with which Rupert' cupped his face, nuzzling against the skin of Rupert's palm.  "If . . . uh, if we don't calm down, this is going to be over before either of us gets what we want."

Wesley laughed slightly, nodding.  "Right, calm.  I . . . Uh, I should . . . move," he said softly.

"Just, uh, for a moment," Rupert said, a mischievous smile lifting his lips in a way that made Wesley's breath catch.  "You need to choose a tape," Giles said, motioning to the box.

Wesley eyes slid slowly to it, as if he were still afraid to get too near.  Part of him insisted this was a test, if he didn't do the right thing Rupert wouldn't touch him, wouldn't want him, wouldn't let him stay.  Most of him knew that was ridiculous. Rupert had always been honest with him.  He'd made it quite clear that Wesley had a choice between him and the picture.  Yes, there had been risk involved, but never tricks.

"Uh, choose?"  Wesley glanced and Rupert, shaking his head.

"Mmm-hmm," Rupert whispered against his neck, as if he couldn't keep his lips off of some part of Wesley.  "Choose.  Anything you'd like.  I want to see you excited," Rupert pulled back, giving him a smile.  "Want to . . . take you while we watch."

Wesley whimpered, swallowing hard.  "You're, uh, not making it easy to calm down," he said, trying for a chiding tone, though it somehow came out breathless and choked.

"You're right," Rupert said after a moment, pulling his hands and lips from Wesley's body.  The movement, the look in Rupert's eyes, both showed his reluctance to let go.  "Choose anything, Wes."

"Why?" Wesley found himself asking.  The idea . . . God, it did things to him, but he had to know why Rupert was doing this.  He'd said that these things were not meant for anyone but him and . . . Wesley had to know why he was being given this chance.

Rupert licked his lips, glancing down at the box and then back to Wesley.  "You said once that this box was part of me and that looking inside it was like looking into me, and you were right.  There aren't many people who . . . the things in here are very private to me and I . . . want you to know . . . me," Rupert shrugged, his tone slightly nervous.  "I don't want to keep anything from you.  I don't want you to feel as if there's anything in this place that you aren't allowed to-to know about, to touch, to . . . anything."  
  
Wesley's mouth went dry.  He knew he was gaping, but this gesture . . . he shook his head and then leaned for a quick kiss.  "Thank you," he said softly, not sure there was anything else he could say.  He smiled, relieved when it was returned.  Rupert's hand came up again, his fingertips brushing Wesley's face.

"Choose."

Wesley opened his mouth to say that he didn't know what to choose and then realized that looking at the titles might help.  He leaned over, his eyes scanning the labels.

 _Ethan, Thomas, and me, skinny-dipping._   Wesley paused, wondering if that really meant what he thought it did.  All three of them?  Together?  His breath hitched, but he moved on, determined to look at them all before he made a decision.

 _Ethan and me, in the park._   Wesley felt his eyebrow rise.  They had really . . . in a park?  And filmed it?  He glanced up, saw the curious look Rupert was giving him and simply smiled, looking back to the tapes.

 _Ethan and me, lazy Sunday._   Something about that appealed to Wesley.  It was such a simple thing.  As much as imagining Rupert with two other men had made his cock twitch, this one reached in and tugged at something deeper.

His decision made, he sat back on the sofa, facing Rupert.  Was it his imagination or was Rupert nervous?  _He's showing himself to you, you fool, of course he's nervous.  He's just opened himself up, laid his insides, his desires, bare.  Say something!_

"And I only get to choose _one_?"  Wesley let his forehead furrow, but underneath he was nervous as well.  How much of himself could he lay bare?  Choosing one of these tapes would be admitting that the thought of whatever was on it did something to him.  Perhaps, Rupert had known that?  Made the first move, opened himself up first in the hopes that Wesley would do the same?

"For now.  Though, I'm not at all opposed to doing this again." Rupert replied with a small laugh, looking a bit more relaxed.  That alone relaxed Wesley a little as well.  He'd said the right thing, done the right thing.  Knowing that that was possible made him smile.

Taking a deep breath, Wesley looked back to the box and pointed.  "That one," he said softly, watching Rupert's face as the man leaned down and read the label.  The soft smile that lifted Rupert's lips made Wesley feel warm inside.

"All right.  If that's what you want," Rupert said, leaning in to kiss the finger with which Wesley was pointing.  Wesley found himself smiling, unsure why the simple gestured touched him the way it did.

Rupert looked at the tape and let out a little snort of laughter.  His eyes were a bit distant and Wesley started to have second thoughts.  Would Rupert be watching this tape, touching _him_ and thinking of this Ethan fellow?  He knew next to nothing about the man, except that he'd been the one in the photo.  Dark hair, similar body type, and . . . Rupert had worn a blissful expression when his mouth was on Ethan's cock.  Would Rupert be touching him and pretending he was Ethan?  What if he said things on the tape with Ethan?  Things he'd never said to Wesley, might never say?

He reached out and grabbed Rupert's wrist as the man stood.  Rupert looked at him, raising an eyebrow and Wesley suddenly felt like an utter fool.  "Uh, may-maybe this isn't such a good idea.  I . . ." Wesley swallowed hard and he couldn't look Rupert in the eyes when he said, "I want you to be with _me_."

Rupert gave him an odd look and sat down on the sofa again, their legs pressed against one another.  "And I will be.  I want to be with you, Wesley."  Rupert leaned close, kissing his shoulder and Wes smiled, though he remained unconvinced.  "Wes?  What are you worried about?"

Wesley shrugged, not sure he could bring himself to voice his fears, not when Rupert might laugh, might think him naïve or . . . what if Rupert said that was exactly what he'd intended to do?

"I, uh, just don't . . ." Wesley closed his eyes and just spit it out, knowing what a bulldog Rupert was when there was something he thought he should know and didn't.  "I don't want you to think of him," he said softly.  "If I’m not--not, uh, g-good, I--"

Rupert's lips settled against his own and Wesley's eyes popped open.  Rupert pulled away, a little smile on his face.  "Wes, if you don't want to watch these tapes, we won't.  It's as simple as that, but you're the only one I've been . . . thinking about for months now."

Wesley smiled, ducking his head and leaning against Rupert for moment.  He felt the man's arm slip around him, quiet, but with no sense of waiting, relaxed.  Wesley sucked in a deep breath, wanting this, wanting Rupert so badly he thought it might not be entirely healthy.  Of course, he didn't really care.

"Would you like to know about Ethan?"

"Would you like to talk about him?" Wesley replied, his stomach knotting as he waited for the answer, which, thankfully, wasn't long in coming.

"No.  I'd rather be with you tonight," Rupert said.  "But if you'd feel more comfortable knowing about him, I'll tell you anything you care to know.  Ask me."

That quick, easy 'no' did more to reassure him than anything else.  Rupert hadn't hesitated, hadn't needed to think about it.  Just, 'no'.  "Put on the tape," he said after a moment, straightening and meeting Rupert's eyes.

Rupert smiled back at him and then stood, going over to put the tape in the VCR.  Wesley wasn't sure what to do with himself while Rupert did that.  He was nervous, unsure whether to undress or wait and do that with Rupert or . . . so he sat, biting his lip and trying to ease the tangle of feeling inside.

He wanted this so badly, he knew something would happen.  Something had to happen to bugger it all up.  Unfortunately, it would likely be him that would cause that unknown something.  He swallowed hard and looked up to find Rupert watching him.  The tape was already playing, but Rupert was watching him.

Wesley blinked and looked back to the television.  Young Rupert and Ethan were both at a table, half-dressed, slumped and sleepy looking.  Ethan said something, Wes could see his lips move, though he heard nothing.  He looked back to Rupert, moving to stand in front of him.  "No sound?"

"Mute.  I'd much rather hear you," he said softly, leaning in close to Wesley's ear once again, his hands settling on Wes' hips.  "I love the sounds you make.  So eager and wanting.  They drive me a little mad, actually."

Wesley could feel Rupert smiling against his neck.  He let out the breath he'd been holding, leaning in so that he could lick and suck at Rupert's skin the way Rupert was doing to his.  He often copied Rupert's actions, at least until he was too excited to think about it.  Over Rupert's shoulder he could see the action playing out across the small TV screen, Rupert was apparently not happy with something Ethan had said, though both of them were smiling--smirking actually.  Rupert had Ethan's shirt in both hands, had him pressed against the wall.  The kiss between them was like an explosion of passionate violence.  Wesley gasped, his cock twitching, hips pushing against Rupert's body.  
  
He wasn't sure how they actually got to the kissing.  It was a flash, suddenly Rupert was there and they were pressing against one another, lips no exception.  Rupert sucked on his lower lip, drawing it between his teeth and Wesley groaned.  Rupert's hands slid under his shirt again; big, callused hands moving over his back and leaving little shivers in their wake.

Then those hands were sliding around and out.  Wesley whimpered into the kiss before he felt Rupert's fingers on the buttons of his shirt, undoing them, undressing him.  Wesley groaned, his hands moving without a thought to the buttons of Rupert's shirt as their kiss ended and Wesley pulled back.  Getting undressed was quicker than Wes had thought.  Rupert's motions were smooth and competent, stopping only occasionally to brush over the skin he was revealing.  Wesley was less so.  His hands shook slightly, but Rupert didn't seem to notice, or if he did he ignored it, for which Wesley was grateful.

As soon as Wesley's chest was bare, Rupert was kissing it.  Wes closed his eyes, only to snap them open again when he remembered the video.  He wanted to see it, enjoyed watching Rupert and this other man.  Later, he'd pause to wonder how big a pervert that made him, but right then he couldn't think, not with Rupert's tongue doing those things to his nipple.

He groaned, arching into the man's mouth and then gasping as Rupert slid easily to his knees.  Wesley found himself breathing in tight pants.  He looked down, unable to do anything but watch as Rupert unbuttoned his trousers, unzipped them, slid them and the boxers down his legs.  The feel of the fabric brushing his hard cock had Wes biting his lip.  His erection had been straining against the fabric, precum dotting the head and now cool air moved over it, making him gasp again and grip Rupert's shoulders for support.

Rupert leaned in and kissed his cock, hot tongue flicking out against the head.  "Yes," Wesley groaned, his eyes moving away from the nearly unbearably erotic picture.  It was safer to watch the television, less likely to make him come.  He saw Rupert tease Ethan with whispered words he couldn't hear.  He could see Ethan's reaction, though, could see how hard the man was growing in his tight jeans.

Then Rupert's mouth slid down his cock and Wesley could no longer make sense of the pictures.  All he could do was groan, make small noises in the back of his throat as Rupert sucked and licked and gripped his hips.

"God, Rupert, I . . . p-please.  I don't think I can . . . last," he said softly, ashamed of his lack of control.  He was a grown man for god's sake.  Rupert pulled off slowly, his lips firmly brushing along Wesley's shaft, pulling a long moan from Wesley's lips as he nearly doubled over Rupert's kneeling form.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself.  I so wanted to taste you," Rupert said, his voice warm and thick.  Wesley's cock twitched at the words and the thought.  Rupert's mouth on him, just as he'd imagined, as he'd wanted and the fantasy hadn't been nearly so good.  It hadn't been warm and soft, hadn't had that wonderful suction or the flicks of that wonderful tongue.

"Rupert . . . I want . . ." and why was it so hard to say?  Why did it feel as if he were demanding things he didn't deserve?

"What?" Rupert asked softly, standing, pulling him toward the sofa.  Wesley went, his mind too fogged over to really process the movements themselves.  All he knew was that he suddenly found himself on Rupert's naked lap, facing the television, Rupert's hands on his hips and Rupert's teeth scraping along his back.  "What do you want?  Tell me."

"You," Wesley whispered, his eyes fixing on the television, fixing on Rupert as he thrust his cock into Ethan's mouth.  "I want you to . . . take me.  Fuck me.  _Please_."

Rupert's cock twitched where it was pressed against his arse.  Wesley groaned, wriggling.  The answering groan that pulled from Rupert sent a pulse of heat through his stomach and into his cock, hardening it further than he'd thought possible.

"Good lord.  I, uh, think we can give up any hope of this lasting.  I want to take you, feel you, fuck you.  Love how much you want me inside you."  Rupert's breath was on his neck and Wesley moved his hands back, needing to feel Rupert, any part of him.  His hands settled on Rupert's forearms and wrists, rubbing restlessly.

Wesley leaned back, thighs falling open to either side of Rupert's legs, bringing Rupert's cock into closer contact with his arse.  He wriggled against it, thrust his hips back experimentally.  Wes knew he'd never heard Rupert make that sound, somewhere between a whimper and a moan.

"Don't care how long it lasts," he panted, licking his lips as he watched Rupert push Ethan face down on the table, watched the way this much younger Rupert teased the other man.  "Need this," Wesley knew his voice sounded desperate and didn't care.

Rupert's lips were on his back, his hands moving over Wesley's body.  Brushing his thighs, barely-there touches to his cock, over his stomach and chest.  Wesley leaned into those hands and wondered if he might just break, if the want building inside him might not just shatter him.

Then Rupert was telling him to lean forward a little.  Wesley didn't question, his body reacting to the request at once.  He put his hands against the coffee table and waited for what seemed an eternity.  He kept his eyes opened, panting as he watch Rupert slick his fingers and cock on the television, watched Ethan moan as Rupert slipped his fingers inside.

Rupert's fingers were slick when they finally brushed over him, leaving a slick trail down his back, down his crease, over his entrance.  Wesley let out a strangled moan, gripping the edge of the coffee table so hard his wrists hurt.  Wesley moaned and whimpered as first one and then a second finger pushed into him, stroking him, stretching him, making him ready.  Rupert was talking, but the words only penetrated peripherally.  Some of the words were clearer than others.  He most definitely heard Rupert tell him how well he was doing, heard the praise in Rupert's tone.

It hurt, burning and sharp as if he were being split open.  Wesley cried out, the sound trailing off into a whimper as Rupert pressed in just a tiny bit more, so slowly Wesley thought it might kill him.  Not the pain, but the waiting.  He felt restless, felt the need to move and clench and watching Ethan doing exactly that wasn't helping.  Wesley wanted Rupert to slam inside him, take him, drive everything else out and this slow burn was killing him.  Unable to stop himself, Wesley pushed back, trying to get more.  More of the pain.  More of that full feeling.  More of Rupert inside him.  Just more.  He thought he might have said that, or something to that effect.  He couldn't be sure when his world was focused on Rupert's fingers, his own arse, and the aching pulse of his cock.

"How does that feel, Wes?  Good?"  Rupert whispered in his ear, the man's voice so soft and warm it made Wesley shiver.

"Yes!" he groaned, pushing back again.  "So--so much and I . . . God, want more."

"Shh," Rupert told him, stroking him.  Wesley whimpered, gasping as he forced his eyes to open.  "Relax, Wes.  I’m right here.  I’m not going to stop.  I'll give you just what you want, but slowly."

Wesley nodded a bit too much, too quickly, his eyes focusing on the television, on Rupert pushing hard and fast into Ethan, over and over again.  He watched, feeling Rupert's fingers fuck him, pressing back into each thrust and moaning when Rupert brushed his prostate, lighting fireworks before his eyes.  He tried to relax, tried desperately to let go, but he wanted so badly.

Rupert's fingers withdrew and Wesley groaned at the loss.  Then Rupert was pushing into him again, three fingers, stretching, ratcheting up the burn and making Wesley moan.  He almost lost his balance, but Rupert's free hand was still on his hip, still holding him, helping him to stay upright.

"Rupert, I . . ." He was unable to finish that, unsure what he wanted, what he was thinking.

"I love it when you're abandoned, Wesley.  Love when you let your control slip."  Rupert said, leaning forward to kiss the skin of Wes' lower back.  Wesley found himself panting, pressing back, needing more.

"Rupert, please.  I'm--I'm more than ready.  Please, just . . . need to feel you inside me."

Rupert sucked in a breath, nodding against Wesley's back.  "God, yes.  Lean, uh, lean back, Wes."  Rupert's finger withdrew and Wesley felt nearly giddy, pushing the nervousness aside.  He would be good.  Rupert wanted him.

Taking a deep breath, Wesley leaned back, gasping as he felt the blunt head of Rupert's cock pressing at his entrance.  Rupert groaned and Wesley thrust himself back and down, spearing himself and crying out with the sensations that rushed through him.

There was pain, but he didn't care, welcomed it in fact.  He'd feel this tomorrow and he'd think of Rupert and what they'd done together and . . . God, maybe he should stay inside tomorrow if his cock twitched half as hard then as it was with just the thought.

Rupert made a strangled noise, his hands closing tight on Wesley's hips, his face buried against Wesley's shoulder.  Wes came down enough to wonder for a moment if he'd hurt Rupert and then they were moving.  He couldn't say who started the rocking motion, but both of them were gasping, panting.  Wesley groaned, tilting his neck to give Rupert better access as the man bit and licked.

"You feel so good, Wes.  So tight.  Perfect."

Wesley almost faltered in their rhythm, his balls tightening at Rupert's words.  He knew they weren't true, or at least the last one wasn't, but hearing Rupert call him that . . . it was as good as watching the tape, seeing Ethan come with Rupert's cock buried deep inside him.  Rupert wore that blissful expression again and Wesley wanted to be the cause of it.  
  
"Wesley," Rupert said breathlessly, his hand slipping from Wes' hip and wrapping around his cock, pumping in time with that glorious rocking.  Wes groaned at the feeling, moving faster, harder to get more of Rupert inside him and more of Rupert's hand squeezing his cock.

"I'm so--so close," Wes panted, leaning back, loving the feel of Rupert's hands on him, Rupert's cock buried inside him.  He could get used to this, come to crave this and while part of him thought that was a very dangerous thing indeed.  Most of him didn't even have to work to ignore the thought.

"Tell me, Wes," Rupert said against his shoulder, firm, soft lips brushing against Wesley's skin.  "Tell me what you fantasized about.  With . . . God, with the picture."

Wesley couldn't have stopped if he wanted to, couldn't have kept himself from moving against Rupert, from gasping as Rupert plucked one nipple, or let the hand around Wes' cock dip lower to move over his balls.  He couldn't stop himself from speaking either, letting the words spill out as he gasped and panted.

"I wanted you, God, so badly.  Wanted you to-to come downstairs, I-I don't know.  Catch me.  _See_ me touch myself.  I-I wanted you to-to take over.  Wanted your hand on me, your lips and . . . God, wanted you to . . ." Wesley wasn't sure he could finish this, wasn't sure he could say the last thing he'd wanted.  Up until then it wasn't anything Rupert didn't know, but the last bit . . . he wasn't sure what Rupert would think of him.

"Tell me," Rupert said in his ear, tone still warm and doing things to Wesley that he'd have sworn couldn't be done by mere words.

"Wanted you to-to make me beg for it," he gasped, the words just slipping out.

"Like this?" Rupert asked, his hand stilling on Wesley's aching cock.  "Beg for me, Wes.  Come on, love.  Let me hear you."

Wesley wasn't sure which bit made him cry out, made his ball tightened almost unbearably.  It might well have been the 'beg for me', but Rupert had never called him 'love' before.

"Please.  God, please, Rupert.  I need this.  Need to come so badly I ache.  Please, I--I want this, need it."  Wesley let the words pour out, whimpering as he tried to thrust into Rupert's hand and found the grip far, far too loose.

"Good God," Rupert moaned, the rocking motion speeding up, Rupert's angle changing just the slightest bit.  "I couldn't deny you anything," he heard Rupert whisper just before the man's hand tightened around his cock, stripping him fast.

Wesley arched into the touch, body clenching tight around the cock pressed inside him.  He cried out once again as his balls tightened hard and he was coming, the world white noise.  He knew he was saying Rupert's name, over and over again, but beyond that and the wave cresting through him, the world was gone.

His head began to clear when Rupert's slick hands moved to his hips and Rupert began to make small, frantic noises.  He jerked once, twice and Wesley gasped, feeling Rupert coming.  He turned his head just enough to see that blissful expression and then he all but collapsed against Rupert, feeling his lover's muscles go lax.

 _My lover,_ he thought to himself, feeling a smile lift his lips.  _**My** lover._

"Wesley?"  Rupert's voice was slightly hoarse, his body still relaxed beneath Wesley's weight.  Rupert's hands moved over him, soft, absentminded caresses that meant just as much as what they'd just done, perhaps more.

"Hmm?"  Wesley opened his eyes, though half-lidded seemed to be as wide as they would go.  On the video, Rupert came.  He and Ethan laid against the table, panting for a long moment before they pushed up and apparently went about making breakfast.

"Was it anything close to what you had hoped?"  There was a slight nervousness to the question and Wesley had to laugh.

"More," he said softly, rolling off of Rupert, hissing as his lover's cock pulled free.  He curled against Rupert's side, laying his head on one sweaty shoulder.  "Perfect," he added, feeling his eyes closing.

"We should move upstairs," Rupert said as his lips pressed to Wesley's forehead.

"I can stay?"  Wesley wasn't sure if he'd actually thought Rupert would make him leave.  That realization actually made his eyes open, made him blink and smile at Rupert who was giving him that slightly sad look he always got when Wesley asked a question like that.  "Never mind," Wesley said softly.  "Silly question."


End file.
